Dark Beauty
by PadfootsMoonyPrincess
Summary: The story of Bellatrix's daughter. Months older than Draco, reared by her aunt and uncle, expected to follow the path made by her mother. Looks can be deceiving. Severus Snape is set to find out just how different daughter is from mother.
1. Birth

Disclaimer: _Harry Potter_ is owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter One

A low growl passed the parched lips of the dark haired woman laying prone on the four poster bed. Sweated beaded on her brow as one hand clenched the sheet covering her top half. Her other hand clutched tighter around her wand as another sharp pained tore through her.

"Breathe through the pain, madame, and you may push on the next." The wizened medi-wizard offered in soothing tones.

Her sister, ripe with her own child, stood beside her bed, watching as another pain ripped through her. She pushed, cursing the Dark Lord for insisting on her being used as a brood mare. The pain hit again, and the medi-witch accompanying the wizard patted her hand. Glaring, she raised her wand and through clenched lips uttered the curse, killing the kind woman with a flash of green. The medi-wizard looked up in shock, but the wand was pointed between his eyes and he forced himself back to the task at hand.

She felt the head push free from her and continued pushing through the pain. Soon a wail echoed through the room and the wizard held up the child. He magically cleaned the baby and brought it to its mother for inspection.

Bellatrix Lestrange looked down at the small bundle the medi-wizard had placed against her breast and thought it looked rather tiny to have caused so much pain. A tuft of dark hair sprouted from its rather pointed head and it was still screaming. This, she thought, was what the Dark Lord had felt was so important. This squirming bundle of obnoxious crying. She darted a look back to the man who had helped in her delivery.

"What is it?" She asked, wishing he'd call a House-elf to tend to the creature.

"It's a girl, Madame Lestrange." He said, bowing and turning to pack up his instruments.

"A girl," she said, her lip curling. If she'd had to have a child, she'd have preferred a boy.

"Shall I call for Rodolphus?" Narcissa asked, quietly looking down at the daughter her sister had just given birth to. Such a lovely little girl, she thought.

"I suppose," she said. "And a house-elf, Cissy. To tend to the..." She motioned toward the bundle, who having cried itself out was asleep.

Narcissa bent and took the baby from her sister. She cradled it to her breast and hoped her own baby would be half as beautiful. She walked to the door, waiting for the medi-wizard to follow her. Together they walked downstairs to the library where two men sat talking by the fire.

"Rodolphus," Narcissa said, drawing their attention to the medi-wizard and her presence. "You have a daughter."

Lucius stood, ignoring the wizard with his wife to see what a child of Bellatrix would look like. She was smaller than he'd have thought possible, thinking that such a fervent support of his Master would have given birth to a larger, more powerful child. Silky, dark hair covered her crown, and her full lips were closed in something of a pucker. He wondered if she'd be a replica of her mother and sobered at the thought.

Throughout Lucius' inspection of the child, Rodolphus stayed seated. A daughter, he thought with a grimace. He'd expected a son. He supposed he should go check on his wife, but could hardly think of a more displeasing visit he could subject himself to. Then he thought of the Dark Lord and corrected himself. Sighing, he stood and walked to where his sister and brother-in-law were standing. Dismissing the medi-wizard with a wave of his hand, he looked on his daughter. She looked just like his wife. Dark hair, full lips, her eyes were closed but he was certain they'd be the same dark depths. Bloody hell, was there anything of him in this child?

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Narcissa asked in a low voice. She rocked the tiny bundle when a small whimper escaped. She looked at the medi-wizard and recalled the dead witch upstairs. "Rodolphus, before the good Healer leaves there's something to take care of upstairs."

Rodolphus, accompanied by the Healer, went upstairs to see his wife. And to dispose of loose ends.


	2. Childhood

Chapter Two: Childhood

Draco watched his cousin carefully. His parents had told him that wandless magic was normal for all magical children, but he could tell that even they were impressed by what Calligenia could do. Now, as he stared, she was bewitching flowers to change color. So far she had the darkest purple he'd ever seen on what once was pale pink roses and there were midnight blue baby's breath.

"Calli, turn the tulips green next," he asked, unable to stay quiet any longer.

She turned to face him and for a moment he wished he'd stayed silent. His parents were forever talking about how beautiful she was, but there was something frightening about how she seemed to look straight through him. Her dark hair fell in waves to her waist. Her mahogany colored eyes were hooded, giving her a perpetually haughty look. Calligenia had fair skin and from what his parents said, from the pictures they had hidden away in albums, she was the image of her mother, his aunt Bellatrix. And from watching her and how much magic she could perform now, days before they were scheduled to go to Diagon Alley to get their wands, she was as powerful too.

Calligenia smiled at her cousin. Little Draco, so eager to please, eager to play the Pureblood prince his parents have pretended he was for his whole life. She considered, momentarily, turning the little brat green. How dare he order her to use her magic for his own amusement, she thought. She reconsidered, however, knowing that nothing good would come from giving into temptation and cursing the son of her guardians. She preferred, she thought as she changed the tulips for her cousin, her position of doted upon niece. No, she wouldn't hex him, although her mind twitched with the urge, not yet.

Lucius watched the children as they played in the garden. Actually, they weren't playing, Calligenia rarely played. No, his niece was enchanting the flowers to change colors based completely on her will alone. Gods, he'd known a child of Bellatrix's would be powerful, but watching her grow for the past eleven years had definitely had it's share of surprises. He recalled her delivery to the manor, hours after Bella and Rodolphus were taken for torturing the Longbottoms into madness. Her parents hadn't told them of her signs of magic, they'd hardly spoken of her at all, as though she were merely a task set to them by the Dark Lord and then once completely, forgotten.

Draco had, of course, shown signs of magic early too, but Calli's magic was more powerful. Any fool could see that. Unlike most magical children who do magic when emotionally upset or elated, Calli could control hers, use it as she wanted. They'd noticed it within hours of her arrival. She'd become fussy, as a baby of nearly a year is prone to do, but instead of waiting to be consoled, she simply bewitched the books of the library into a dance. She'd also conjured her own bottle, as though used to providing nourishment for herself. Even when she'd been in their care for over a year, she still held herself at a bit of a distance from the family, strange for a child little past babe stage. She'd finally started to warm to them when she was five. Finally allowed Narcissa to dote on her, actually allowed Lucius himself to dote on her too.

This year would be her and Draco's first year at Hogwarts. The year that the "Boy Who Lived" would come back to the magical community. His wand hand itched. The brat that defeated his Master would come home to acclaim and adoration. He wondered, for a moment, if the rumors could be true. Could the child have even more remarkable power than even Lord Voldemort? He stood gazing at his children, because he did think of Calli as his own, and considered the entrance of another dark wizard to the Wizarding world.

He didn't hear his wife approach, didn't see her watching the children as intently as he was.

Narcissa looked in the direction Lucius was staring into and noticed Draco and Calligenia standing in the garden. She watched as her niece willed one of the hedges into the form of a swan, going so far as to turn the greenery to brilliant white. Dear Merlin, she was a talented little witch. It almost frightened her to think of Calli with a wand to harness her power further. She watched as a summer breeze played on the waves of her niece's hair and was struck by how much she reminded her of Bella. So much like the sister trapped in Azkaban, she thought, but her eyes had a glint of something Bella's never had. Almost as though she was born with all the intelligence that Bella had gathered through adulthood, as though she had a reserve of knowledge and power that they couldn't imagine.

Narcissa shivered and let out a little hiss of air, alerting Lucius to her presence beside him. He turned and kissed her temple in one of his rare displays of affection. Placing his arm around her, he turned her from the window of the library and walked her to one of the chairs before the fireplace. He sat in the one mirroring hers and with a snap of his fingers had a House-elf groveling to attend them.

"Wine," he ordered, without a look at the creature. Two glasses popped into the elf's hands, and having his glass and making sure Narcissa had hers, dismissed the elf with a wave.

"It's time," he stated, taking a drink of the elf-made wine. "Time for our children to go off to school."

Narcissa nodded, taking a sip from her own glass. She offered a cool smile. "It hardly seems like they could be eleven, does it?"

"And yet they are," he said, sitting back in his chair. "Harry Potter goes to Hogwarts this year too."

Narcissa's lips thinned. The child who defeated the most powerful dark wizard in living memory, returning to the magical world. She detested the thought of the Muggle raised brat being in the same castle as her precious children.

"I think Draco, and perhaps Calligenia, should befriend him." Lucius' eyes were on the mantle, so he didn't see the look of revulsion on Narcissa's features. "It might be wise, if the rumors are true."

She sniffed, shocked that Lucius would think to believe the absurdity of the rumors that a mere child could be the beginnings of a powerful dark wizard. Her thoughts fell to her niece and she paused. Perhaps, but of course it couldn't be... Calligenia had Bellatrix and Rodolphus for parents. Her blood was untainted, undiluted, so of course she was more powerful than the average magical child. She considered Draco, also Pureblood, but not nearly as strong as Calli.

Lucius left Narcissa to her own thoughts, as he fell into his own. If the Potter brat were as powerful as the rumors insinuated, having Draco or Calligenia near him, befriending him, would be a stroke of genius. They'd be nearest the new Dark Lord and he, being their guardian, would become near him as well.

Thoughts of powerful children kept Narcissa and Lucius sitting by the fireplace as Draco watched Calligenia bewitch the hedge swan to come to life. So entranced in their own thoughts, the elders didn't hear Draco scream when the hedge attacked.


	3. Hogwarts Year One: First Term

Chapter Three: Hogwarts Year One

"Lestrange, Calligenia." Professor McGonagall called.

Calli walked through the whispering clumps of First Years toward the rickety chair old stool holding the worn hat. She ignored the whispering that spread through the Great Hall at the mention of her name, ignored the curious looks shot her way. Let them think what they will, she thought as she sat down on the stool and placed the hat over her head.

"Hmmm," the hat murmured in her ear. "Interesting, very interesting." Calli couldn't hold back a scowl. Olivander, the wandmaker, had said the same thing while fitting her with a wand. As though yew wands with a dragon heartstring core were so rare. If one more person, or thing she considered the hat, called her interesting, she just might be forced to curse them into next week. "I hadn't believed I'd ever see a child from your parents. Far too ambitious with their," it paused, considering options, "causes. You should be easy to place. Both parents in Slytherin, but what is this? There's a cleverness here that Ravenclaw would appreciate. No, not Ravenclaw. I hardly think that Hufflepuff would understand your," again it paused as though considering possibilities, "abilities. Hmmm..." Calli wished the hat would just bellow out 'Slytherin' and be done with it. All this conjecture really wasn't necessary. "Perhaps Gryfindor," the thought froze Calli. Surely not, she thought. "You're far braver than anyone near you would imagine, hiding what you believe as you do." She started thinking it MUST choose Slytherin. There could be no noble Gryfindors in her family. Not while she played Bellatrix's perfect daughter. Not while she was tethered to the Malfoys. "See there it is, bravery, but you refuse Gryfindor? Must be...SLYTHERIN."

Calli smirked. So you could bend it to give you what you want. She lifted the hat and made her way to polite clapping from the Slytherin table. Already feared, she thought, already respected. She sat down at the first open place, clearly making the girl next to her uncomfortable and glanced up at the teacher's table above. She could tell immediately who her head of house was, with all those buttons and yards of black. Her smirk remained as she noticed him staring into her dark eyes with his own before tearing his eyes away as though burned.

Severus Snape watched as the young Lestrange girl made her way to the stool. She held her head high, disregarding the whispers and looks she was getting from students and teachers alike. There was a haughty, almost regale look on her face as she sat primly on the stool and pulled the hat onto her head. He watched, certain the hat would barely touch her head before shouting "SLYTHERIN", but it took rather longer than expected before the shout was heard. So she wasn't merely a copy of Bellatrix, he thought, knowing if the hat got within a foot of Bella it would be screaming his house's name.

She was pretty, he thought, watching her rise from the stool and walk to the Slytherin table. Her long, dark hair hung in a braid down her back. Her dark eyes where practically hidden by the heavy lids, so very like her mother's. She wasn't a large girl, rather petite and tiny, actually. Her skin was pale, as though she feared the sun and preferred the dark. She'll love the dungeon rooms of Slytherin, he thought. He caught himself staring into those heavy lidded dark eyes, falling into their depths, then starting as though stunned. Usually he'd been able to perform simple Legilimency on the First Years with ease. Not so with this child, he'd seen nothing in her dark eyes. Nothing whatsoever, no fear, no wonder, no excitement. It was though she were an empty vessel. Internally he shuddered. Bloody hell, could she be worse than Bellatrix?

The first week of her first year at Hogwarts proved that Calli wasn't like the other children. She kept to herself, preferring her own company to that of the vapid girls in her dorm. She could still hear the whispers, still feel the looks as she walked through the castle and during classes. She kept her temper, kept her head held high. Regardless of what the others thought, regardless of what they assumed to be true of her due to her parentage, she wouldn't let them see a reaction from her. Let them have their petty gossiping.

Her classes, that's where the rumors really grew. During Charms, while practicing Wingardium Leviosa, she'd drawn attention to herself. Not only by performing the charm before any of her classmates, but because she did it without speaking. Professor Flitwich fell from his stack of books and the glass buzzed with this new knowledge. To counteract the damage, she'd picked up her wand and said loudly and clearly the incantation, causing her feather to blow up by concentrating on wanting it in flames. The professor and students stopped looking at her as though she'd been born with three heads, considering the first nonverbal attempt a fluke, and the second verbal one more in tune with the abilities of a First Year.

Potions, with her Head of House, was the most calming class she had. For once, being able to use nonverbal and wandless magic worked to her advantage. Professor Snape paid little mind to the fact that her herbs were chopped alarmingly fast or that her fire seemed perfect level every time. She wasn't perfect, however, merely using her power to her advantage. She was better than Harry Potter, she noticed, and the Longbottom chap. Definitely better than Longbottom, she thought, as Professor Snape broke into a diatribe about how large of a dunderhead the boy was.

She knew, without having to listen to the murmured conversations about her, that her presence didn't help Neville's confidence. He equated her with her parents, and considering what her parents did to his own, she could understand how difficult her being near him would be. Harry Potter, and the two that were always with him, steered clear of her as well. They acted as though she were tainted, but she expected that. Realistically, she was the daughter of convicted criminals. Criminals who tortured people into madness. She thought her uncle must be mad to think that anyone would go out of their way to befriend her. Well, anyone not in Slytherin, anyone not interested in using a connection to her to their advantage.

Sighing she bent back to the potion she was working on and vowed to keep her head up and her mind on the task at hand. She would work hard. She would finish school. She would prove them all wrong.


	4. Hogwarts Year One: Second Term

Chapter Four: Hogwarts Year One, Second Term

Severus Snape entered the staff room for a post holiday staff meeting. He expected the usual "Keep your students in line" nonsense. And of course, his house would be under the most scrutiny. He took his seat at the long table and pulled out a copy of the Evening Prophet. He was required to be here, he didn't have to like it.

"Severus," Minerva said, seating herself to his right. "I really feel I have to speak to you about one of your students."

Sighing, he put the paper down. Of course, one of "his students". "Which one and what did they do?" He asked in a bored tone.

"It's not that what she did was so bad," Filius offered, climbing into the chair to his left.

"It's just that," Minerva offered, "she scares the other children."

She? Of course, he thought, Calligenia Lestrange. He couldn't see where she'd done anything to scare any child, at least nothing above simply existing. He raised an eyebrow to his colleague, waiting for her to continue.

"Neville Longbottom," she started, but he stopped her with a raised hand.

"Should learn that it was Miss Lestrange's parents, not Miss Lestrange that put his parents in St. Mungo's." He glared at Minerva, wondering if this was all that she had to offer about his charge. From what he'd seen she kept to herself, not imposing her presence on anyone, let alone Neville Longbottom.

"It's not only that," Filius broke in. "She performs magic without using her wand or the incantations."

"So I should punish her for being more advanced than the other First Years?" Severus was losing his patience. He knew of Miss Lestrange's talents. He'd seen her first hand in his own class, but seeing as he'd only said not to use wands, he hadn't felt punishment was necessary. Besides, she wasn't as likely to explode a caldron like Longbottom was.

"No, we're not saying she should be punished, Severus." Minerva said, dismissing the notion. "Perhaps if you spoke to her, told her how uncomfortable it makes the other children."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. He barely stopped himself from telling the two meddling professors that things would be seen in a different light had Miss Lestrange been put into one of their houses, but was stopped by the arrival of the Headmaster. The meeting started and he was released from the discussion. He thoughts, however, fell to Miss Lestrange and how alone she must feel with even the teachers seeing her in such a negative light.

Calligenia, unaware of the discussions about her in the staff meeting, was settling back into her dorm. Holidays at Malfoy Manor were trying at the best of times. This year, her and Draco's first at Hogwarts, seemed even more so than usual. Her uncle had interrogated both of them about Harry Potter, his friends, his power. He seemed appeased when Draco assured him that Harry was nothing more than a lucky. Calli kept her thoughts to herself, merely agreeing with Draco so her uncle wouldn't force her to make a fool out of herself.

Personally she felt that Harry was a very courageous individual. He entered a world where he was so known, without having the same knowledge of it. He'd made friends, the Granger girl who was by far one of the most clever people Calli had ever seen and the Weasley boy whose family was looked down upon by her own. Unpacking her trunk she considered the Weasleys. There were plenty of children, that was certain, but there was more. T he children weren't simply doted upon like precious possessions. She'd noticed at the beginning of the year, when they were all being herded onto the Hogwarts Express, Mrs. Weasley loved her children. Not because of their fantastic power, not because of their beauty. Simply because they were hers. She envied Ron Weasley and his brothers and sister.

Oh her uncle and aunt had doted on her, that was a given. But did they love her, simply because she was Calli and not because she had abilities that most children didn't? Did they want to know her, know what she thought, know who she was under the parentage she was cursed with? No, they didn't. They "loved" that she was powerful, that she was proof that their Pureblood fanaticism was right. They could care less what boiled beneath the cold beauty at the surface.

She finished unpacking and forced down the knot threatening her throat. She would not cry, they didn't deserve her tears. She looked around her dorm, watched the other girls unpacking and giggling about their holidays, watched them stay as far away from her as possible. Good, she thought, stay away. The less she had to pretend to be interested in their vapid conversations the better. She couldn't wait for classes, couldn't wait for her life to return to the normalcy Hogwarts offered. Calli was home.

A few days after she returned to Hogwarts, after being so happy to be home, Calli was rethinking her love for the school. She was in Professor Quirrell's Defense Against the Dark Arts class and feeling rather uncomfortable. It wasn't the class itself that made her feel so odd, no it was the professor teaching it.

He showed an almost unnatural attention to her. Not in a pervy sense, or even in the sense that he was waiting for her mother to coming slithering out of her. No, he just seemed to want to be near her, to talk to her, ask her questions, almost paternally. And to make matters worse, whenever he was near her, her blood felt hotter, like it was boiling in her veins. It wasn't overpowering, only mildly uncomfortable, but it certainly didn't endear him to her.

She considered talking to her Head of House about the unwanted attention being shown her by his fellow teacher, but it hardly seemed worth it. What would she say, anyway? "Excuse me, Professor Snape, but I think Professor Quirrell is a tad too attentive to me and I'd like you to stop him from trying to get to know me." She scowled and bit her lip. Sure, that wouldn't make her sound paranoid or fearful of human contact. And, considering the gossiping, whispering, and pointing was dying down, did she really want to give them new fodder to run with?

No, she'd simply deal with it in her own way. She'd be cooly polite, and keep her distance. It worked with the other professors and surely the stuttering buffoon would get the hint and leave her to her own devices.

Severus was irritated. He knew that Quirrell was up to something, knew that he was after the Sorcerer's Stone, but couldn't for the life of him understand why. What could the incompetent teacher want with immortality? After cornering him during the holidays, he'd thought an end would come to his sneaking about, but he could almost swear it doubled. And the reports that Potter and Malfoy had seen something drinking unicorn blood in the Forbidden Forest? He sighed. Something was definitely afoot, but what.

Calligenia couldn't believe the rumors going around. The Sorcerer's Stone had been here, in the castle, all year long. And Professor Quirrell, the man who made her so uncomfortable, had been a host for the near death Lord Voldemort. Her head was spinning. She wondered if that had been why her blood seemed to boil when she'd been near him. Her mother's fanatic worship of the wizard coming out of her, perhaps. She wished she could talk to someone about it, but who? She considered Professor Snape again, but dismissed it. There was no reason to have anyone think her odder than they already considered her.

Harry Potter had proven what she'd thought all along. He really was more talented than her cousin gave him credit for. Using his friends' strengths to help him once again defeat the Dark Lord, he proved there was more to his survival than a fluke. She thought of his use of Granger and Weasley and considered it very Slytherin of him to associate with those who could empower him. She wondered if he did it intentionally, but seeing Granger rush into the Great Hall during the Leaving Feast and the greeting she and Harry shared, knew it wasn't a conscious decision. No, they were his family, not his followers. She envied them.

Severus watched Miss Lestrange watching Granger and Potter making a spectacle of themselves in the Great Hall. For a moment he thought he saw a spark of something and prayed she didn't worship Potter like the other harebrained followers. It disappeared as soon as he noticed it, replaced by the void he was so used to seeing when her eyes met his. He'd never seen a child so gifted at Occulmency, but this girl certainly was. She closed herself tighter than any witch or wizard he'd ever met.

He wondered why she did this, why she felt it necessary and realized he almost cared. Bloody hell, was he turning into McGonagall, forever worrying about her students. He tried to shake his questions about the Lestrange girl out of his mind, but he couldn't help but think about how difficult coming here must be for her. How she must feel so ostracized, so alone. He noticed that not even her own cousin stood by her, but he also noticed that she didn't seem to care. Just how much of her mother was there inside the tiny beauty?


	5. Year One: Summer Holiday

Chapter Five: Summer Holiday

Lucius smiled, considering his plan for the coming school year at Hogwarts. It was time, time for the Mudblood population of the prestigious school to be cleaned. He looked down at the leather bound book, a seemingly blank diary and the smile deepened. Oh, little Harry Potter wouldn't easily fight his way out of this one. Hopefully the creature would take him as well, the filthy half-blood.

Dobby popped up with his master's tea and cowered, waiting for the show of force that seemed required for even the simplest of tasks. Sure enough, the blow landed on his arm as he sat the tray down. His eyes watered with pain as he waited for another blow. None came and he hazarded a look at his master. The smile on the handsome face wasn't pleasant and Dobby knew that Master Malfoy must have something wicked planned.

"Oh, you are lucky, Dobby. I'm in a very good mood today, a mood that will only get better as my plans unfold. A mood that even you, disgraceful elf, cannot wither." His hand caressed the book laying on the desk. "This year, Hogwarts will finally be purged and hopefully Harry Potter will be one of the pruned."

Calli was in her room reading when she heard the POP that signified a House-elf's entrance. She glanced up and saw Dobby groveling before her. She wished he wouldn't do this, not when they were alone. She ordered him to stop and waited while he struggled to tell her what had him in a flutter.

She felt herself go even paler. Her uncle planned to unleash something at Hogwarts, something that would make her true home horror filled. She couldn't let him do it, couldn't let his plans unfold. He was trying to finish the job Lord Voldemort started, he wanted Harry Potter dead. She tossed her book aside and made a decision. Should anyone ever know what she planned to do...but with a nod of her head and a few well placed orders, she sent Dobby off on his mission. Perhaps if Harry didn't go back to Hogwarts, maybe her uncle's plans wouldn't proceed. Maybe then her real home would remain untouched.


	6. Update

Thanks for being so patient with me for my lack of updates (LOL lizzy). I promise that there is more coming, you just have to bear with me. Lots of personal stuff, blah blah blah. And, alright, I've been ogling Ian Somerhalder (conservationalism, animal rights activist, and hot? What's not to love?).


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